


Silver Lining

by Mrs_D_and_K



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fantasizing, Fluff and Smut, Near Future, Overuse of italics, Scents & Smells, Semi-Public Sex, VERY background Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4478507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_D_and_K/pseuds/Mrs_D_and_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were downsides, Allison learned, to dating a guy who could smell arousal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Lining

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so this is the first ficlet I've posted here. I'm probably not going to post many more - I much prefer reading to writing! But this was a fun story to write, and I hope you enjoy reading it. :-)
> 
> For the record: yes, the characters start out underage, but no sexual contact is depicted until they're adults. And yes, I've gone back once after posting to edit out a few things I forgot to fix the first time, but I don't intend to do it any more going forward... that way lies madness!

There were downsides, Allison learned, to dating a guy who could smell arousal.

The first time, she didn't even realize what had happened. Lacrosse practice was almost over, and Allison was waiting on the sidelines, trying halfheartedly to study for a test the next day and hoping she'd get a chance to talk to Scott when practice broke up. She had only moved to Beacon Hills a couple months before, but she'd known Scott was special from the first time they met. He was kind, loyal, friendly… which made him sound like a puppy, yeah, but there was also an _edge_ to him. Strength. Presence.

It was really hot. Even if he _was_ too shy to talk to her, most of the time.

Not that "hot" was hard to come by, around here. It seemed like Beacon Hills had a greater concentration of attractive people than anywhere else Allison had ever been. Lydia was hot, in a scary-intense sort of way, although Allison didn't like to think _too_ hard about her best friend's sex appeal. Stiles, Scott's oddball best friend, wasn't exactly handsome… but if you went for "cute and quirky," Allison guessed, he hit the ball out of the damn park. Jackson was an asshole (no matter what Lydia sometimes seemed to think), but Allison wouldn't mind seeing him naked as long as he kept his mouth shut. And Scott… well.

On a purely physical level, Scott was dark smiling eyes, a grin Allison couldn't stop staring at, and thick hair she desperately wanted to run her hands through. He was rangy strength, broad shoulders, sculpted legs… she hadn't even known she _could_ find calves attractive, but apparently his were. And if they were so beautifully muscled, then his butt would probably be even –

 _Shit._ Allison snapped out of her daydreaming as she realized that practice was over and the players were drifting off the field. Hating that her cheeks were warm, she glanced down to make sure her nipples weren't poking at the front of her shirt. Then she looked up and felt a rush of mortified panic when she saw Scott already walking towards her. _Geez, calm down. It's not like he'll know what you were thinking about!_

Except… Scott stopped, when he got closer, and stared at her. His nostrils flared a tiny bit (and seriously, that shouldn't have been hot), his eyes got huge, and then his face turned bright red. His mouth opened, closed, and Allison reminded herself to stop staring at his lips. Neither one of them said anything, and after a few frozen seconds he turned and half-jogged away.

* * *

It took Allison a long time to realize what had happened that day, and when she finally did she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

* * *

Disapproving parents, supernatural revelations, a rotating cast of homicidal monsters, and the more mundane pressures of schoolwork all made their relationship tricky enough. Scott's "horn-o-meter" (as he had once called it, to Allison's embarrassed exasperation) didn't help. She was a healthy teenager, okay? And she was around a lot of hot people.

If Scott had mentioned his insecurity, everything might have been easier. Of course he hadn't, though; suffering silently and doubting his own attractiveness were practically written in his genes. So he and Allison dated, broke up, fought, made up, pined, and were generally their own messy soap opera for way too long.

Everything finally boiled over more than halfway through senior year. It was March, and Allison had cornered Scott to ask him to go to the Spring Fling dance. (Well, as long as no supernatural emergencies came up that weekend….) She had actually assumed _Scott_ would ask _her_ – he usually did, because he was sweet like that – but he had been distant recently. Distant and irritable, and Allison had had enough of it.

”What, did Gordo turn you down?" Scott's voice was almost bitter, and after a second his eyes dropped to the toes of his shoes. Allison blinked at him.

"What – who the heck is Gordo?" And how did he even figure in this conversation?

"Mike Gordon. In our Lit class. Tall guy, blond, varsity basketball team? Don't tell me you don't know who he is. I can smell that you're hot for him." Scott just sounded miserable, now, and he kept staring at his feet as if he didn't want to see what was on Allison's face.

" _Mike?_ You really thought – Scott, oh my god!" She tried not to laugh, but a slightly hysterical giggle slipped out. It got Scott's eyes back up to her, though, and she tried to let her own expression show him how little he had to worry about. "If you can smell anything – well. What you can smell is just the physical. I mean, you can't tell me _you_ never have X-rated thoughts about some of the other girls in class!"

Scott shook his head, nodded, then looked horrified, as if he had admitted something awful. "But I wouldn't ever – Allison, I don't even really want to _do_ anything with them! You've got to believe me."

"Exactly! That's the point. Just because I might appreciate Mike Gordon's biceps when he wears a tight shirt," and now it was Allison's turn to blush a little bit, "doesn't mean that I actually want to do anything with _him_. Which I guess sounds kind of shallow? But you're the only one I actually want to touch, to be intimate with. Physically or in other ways."

It took a few more repetitions to make him believe it. But after that point, their on-again-off-again relationship was much more _on_.

* * *

Scott got certified and started working full-time for Dr. Deaton, Allison graduated from college, and they found an apartment on the far side of town. Allison didn't know any of their neighbors, but she realized she was looking forward to settling in and meeting new people. It would be their first chance to really socialize as adults, as a _couple_ , and while Allison was rarely insecure she found herself hoping she and Scott wouldn't come across as a pair of clueless kids.

If all else failed, she reminded herself, there was always Scott himself. Everyone loved Scott, always, even if they didn't mean to. It was a great secret weapon.

By the time they were done moving, everyone was exhausted; their friends hung around for pizza and beer but then split up to go home and relax. Mrs. McCall – _"Call me Melissa, hon; by now you're practically family"_ – had left them with lots of hugs and some kind of casserole to heat up for supper the next day. For the past couple hours Scott had been giving Allison the type of sidelong glances that meant he was hoping to get lucky that night, and Allison figured his chances were pretty good.

She had just finished putting away the last of the guest towels (since when did they have guest towels?!) when the doorbell rang. By the time she got there, Scott was already chatting with a couple Allison recognized from a few doors down. She caught their names – Jack and Lizzie – but completely lost track of the conversation when Scott took her hand and started carefully brushing his thumb, then his thumbnail, in circles on her palm.

Damn the man. He _knew_ what that did to her.

Allison stood there, trying to look attentive, no longer sure what anyone was saying, knowing there were goosebumps rising on her arms. She didn't tug her hand away from Scott, since that would look awkward; she didn't kick him in the shins, although that would be extremely satisfying. But she was almost ready to snap by the time Jack-and-Lizzie said goodbye and Scott shut the door.

She had him pinned to the opposite wall, her hands fisted in his shirt, before he could say anything. "What the _hell_ was that for? Are you trying to make me look like an idiot in front of the neighbors?" She let herself enjoy the feeling of his chest under her forearms, the way he relaxed into her hold. If she leaned into him she knew he would be hard just from the way they were standing, but she held herself back and stared him down instead.

"Oh, come on, I was only having a little fun." Scott gave her a half-apologetic grin, and kept his hands spread palm-out against the wall. He tried the puppy-dog eyes on Allison, but she didn't budge. Then his expression shifted from apologetic to mischievous, though he kept himself pressed obediently to the wall. "And besides, Al. I know you got hot."

Yeah, there were real downsides to having a boyfriend who could smell arousal.

"We both know I'm wet, but that doesn't mean _you're_ getting anything." She let herself lean into him a bit harder, and enjoyed the way his pupils dilated. "I have two hands, and a whole box of toys. So maybe I'll just go lock myself in our nice new bedroom and take my time giving my body exactly what it wants, while you have to wait in the hall and listen."

Scott just stared at her for a moment, lips slightly parted, breathing fast. Then he shook himself and grinned at her, hot and brilliant. "God, Allison. Is that supposed to be a _bad_ thing?!"

* * *

After years of dancing awkwardly around one another, Stiles and Derek had finally gotten together, and Stiles eventually moved from his dad's spare room into Derek's place. Scott and Allison helped, both because Scott was an awesome best friend, and because they now had an SUV with removable center-row seats and lots of cargo space.

Scott had spent several hours cursing and fuming while he figured out how to take the seats out. Allison would have offered to help, but she and Scott had learned that either one of them could tackle these kinds of projects, but both together was a recipe for marital discord. So instead, she listened to him getting frustrated, and thought of ways to make it up to him later.

The move was easier than anyone expected, because Sheriff Stilinski not only took the day off to help but also had the foresight to rent a box truck. _("Genius," Stiles had breathed as his dad stepped out of the cab. "Yeah, well. Consider it a finally-moving-out-of-Dad's-house present, kid," the Sheriff had said, ruffling Stiles's hair fondly.)_ After loading, offloading, sorting, and then eating, it was still only early evening as Scott and Allison drove away.

"Hey, want to catch a movie?" she asked. The theater was playing the latest Avengers flick, which had been out for a few weeks. More importantly, the parking lot was huge, and its outer edges were very poorly lit. Allison grinned to herself as Scott agreed, then made him park on the outside of the lot "so I can stretch my legs a little bit by walking in." Scott gave her a skeptical look, but didn't say anything.

She got them seats near the front of the theater, in the middle of a bunch of other people. Allison didn't see anyone they knew, though; more importantly, nobody else was likely to have a super-human sense of smell. They settled in, watching the previews, then the opening credits.

And then Allison stopped paying attention to the movie, and instead focused on fantasizing. She started by imagining what she and Scott would do later that night; that got her going, and she happily let her mind wander to other memories, other fantasies. She thought back in lovingly graphic detail to the morning after their wedding; both she and Scott had been exhausted the night before and collapsed into sleep as soon as they got to their hotel, but the next morning they had managed an incredibly prolonged and satisfying round of shower sex. Or shower oral sex? Both, technically, by the time they were done…she happily let herself think through the details. Scott's skin, slick and soapy; his shoulders, arms, buttocks, hazy in the steam. The way he had looked at her, so turned on but also somehow amazed that they had made it to that point.

Allison shot a glance sideways and saw how wide Scott's eyes were in the dim light of the movie theater, how his lips had parted, as if he wanted to taste what he could already smell. She smiled to herself, and let her mind wander to some of the more adventurous things she and Scott had talked about, had tried. They'd both been surprised by how much he loved being tied up. He could always break free if he wanted, of course, but he _didn't_ want to. The first time she had tied him to their bed, he had almost forgotten how to talk, and then had come in her hand, wet and sudden, while she was still barely teasing him. _God_. He'd been embarrassed, but it was one of the hottest things Allison had ever seen. She let herself whimper at the memory, soft and nearly inaudible, and out of the corner of her eye she watched Scott's knuckles whiten where he was gripping his armrest.

By the time the movie was over, Scott was almost trembling and his claws had started to flick out at least twice. The first time, Allison had been visualizing the threesome they would probably never actually _have_ but loved to talk about in bed together; the second time, she'd been briefly distracted by the on-screen action and was imagining fantastic, frantic, just-saved-the-world sex with a whole series of battle-charged superheroes. As soon as the credits started to roll, Scott grabbed at her hand and towed her out towards their parking spot, walking as fast as he could while obviously hard and breathless.

When they got to the SUV, he started to open the front doors, but Allison dragged him into the back. He made a soft "oh" sound, looking with dawning comprehension at the open space in front of the rear bench seat. Allison pushed him gently to his knees and bent to kiss him, fiercely, one hand tangled in his hair. "Do you want something?" she breathed against his ear.

"Yeah, yes. God, Al, please, _yes_." Scott nodded, looked up at her, biting his lower lip but otherwise keeping still. _Good boy._ Allison stripped off her jeans, underwear, shoes, moving quickly but carefully in the small space they had. Then she dropped into the middle of the bench seat, and gestured for Scott to crawl forward and kneel between her legs. Her hand went back to his hair, stroking now.

"Here's what we're going to do, then." She used the hand in his hair to tilt his head up, just a little, so he was looking her in the eye. "I find I'm a little… turned on… and I think you probably are, too." She let him see how pleased she was with herself, with her plan, with how very turned on she _knew_ he was. Scott licked his lips, nodded slightly, then went back to leaning into her palm. She let her other hand drop between her legs, and ran her fingers along the wet lips, then flicked gently over her clit. Scott kept his eyes on hers, although he let out a tiny whine. _Very good boy._

"You are going to eat me out." Scott nodded eagerly, frantically, but Allison tightened her hand in his hair. "No, that's not all. You're going to eat me out, make me come, using your mouth and your hand." She nodded towards his right hand, now braced on her knee. "You can keep your off-hand for yourself, as long as you don't neglect me when you come. _But._ " She put a little more command behind her voice, let her smile shift towards a smirk as she looked down at him. "No unzipping those jeans. We don't want to leave a wet spot on the carpet – it's harder to clean than sheets." She watched his eyes as he processed what she'd said: he could jack himself, could come, but couldn't unzip. She was half-naked and spread out wet in front of him, and he was going to come in his pants.

She tangled her hand in his hair more tightly, so he could barely move his head. "Those are my rules. Understand?" His nod was short, quick, eager. She smiled at him again. "Oh, and while we're at it, give me your shirt." He stripped it off, fast and automatic, and Allison settled it under her own hips before she got the seat wet. Then she pulled Scott's head forward.

He knew what she liked by now, and he started off by teasing – flicking his tongue along the outside edges of her labia, making low noises of appreciation when he tasted how excited she was. Allison rubbed firmly across the muscle of Scott's naked shoulder, across his collarbone, before she brought her hand up to pinch at her own nipple. Scott licked circles near her clit, brushed back and forth over the hood, but avoided direct contact with it. His right hand traced patterns up her inner thigh, teased across to the other thigh, then back. His left hand was in his own lap – she could vaguely see muscles flex as he ground against himself – and she felt his breath puff across her wet skin.

He wasn't going to last long, and neither was she. Allison growled, tightened her hand in his hair, and pulled him forward. Scott moaned, licked up along her pussy to her clit, and started to pulse his tongue there. She threw her head back with a whine as he pressed forward, eased up, paused just before the sensation got too intense. He drew back and nibbled again, delicately, along the edges of her lips, before returning to her clit.

Scott's breaths got harsh and choked, and he twisted his wrist to slide one, then two fingers inside her. Allison felt her hips bucking, heard herself panting in the enclosed space. She also heard the rustle of fabric as Scott worked his other hand under the waistband of his pants, and she listened to his stifled groans as he rubbed himself off. He paused every few minutes, freezing so only his tongue moved, and she knew he was trying not to come yet. Trying to get her there first, but struggling against his own rising arousal.

It was hot. God, it was hot, and she was so close, so close –

Scott did _something_ with the angle of his fingers as he flicked his tongue right across her clit, gentle but devastatingly direct. She cried out as she came, arching her back and twisting her hand in his hair, and felt the faint vibration as he groaned harshly against her. As she drifted down from her orgasm, she heard his helpless grunts, saw the shudders in his body, and had a fleeting thought of how wet his hand must be as he ejaculated. _Yes_.

They both panted wordlessly for a minute or two, and Allison slipped onto the floor to lean against Scott, wrapping her arms around his sweaty torso. As soon as she was no longer starved for oxygen, she leaned over and brushed a soft kiss over his lips. Scott grinned at her, then threw his head back and laughed.

"What?"

"Holy fuck, Al. What were you _thinking_ about during that movie?!"

* * *

So there were downsides to having a husband who could smell arousal. But, Allison had learned, there were upsides to it too.

 

 


End file.
